the walk is
negligible, compared
to the
words that are like
ships
homing to the ports
of my mind
like pigeons
roosting on the branches
of my hair
for, now,
tree, sea, boat am i,
rolled into
one
These are poetic experiments. Man's quest for the poetic element never ceases. He is always caught in the eye of awe. He does not make the rules now. The rules change depending on the emotion that time and space feed him. He must see everything with his wide eyes gaping. The beginning of poetry too, like philosophy is wonder. Look and see. Do not stop wondering You are the poet. And everything is poetry. Wonder. Wander.
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